Typically, day and night are 24 hours; however, sometimes days are longer than nights and vice versa. The colonial regime was not entirely night, though darkness prevailed even after the sun rose. Germany’s rule in the then Tanganyika, now Tanzania mainland, was dark and black and had longer nights, and its scars are in the hearts of people and literature.
British rule was similar to the dawn, which was filled with fog. No one knew where they were going or cared what they were doing. The introduced culture was strange; the leaders were angels, white people, white-like cherubs, or Greek gods. The light of the day was guaranteed.
Since no one cared what they were doing or where they were going, the day was never there; instead, eclipses were set for the future. Only Nkurumah, the prophet, saw that from afar.
The day came, and people celebrated with food and drinks. Some got new titles, and neither Germany nor the British were there. The only thing that existed was black, not the dark; the color black represented the people of Tanzania and their leaders.
Nevertheless, it was only 8 hours of the day, and then the darkness started again; no one knew that the first President of the United Republic of Tanzania (previously Tanganyika), Julius Kambarage Nyerere, would have let that happen, that the ujamaa of have nots and umami of haves.
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No one saw that coming, not even the second Tanzania Prime Minister, Rashidi Mfaume Kawawa or the former Prime Minister Edward Sokoine, but at least when the darkness took over, Mwl. Nyerere acknowledged that Russia would be Russia and China would be China; Cuba would follow suit, but Tanzania would never prevail even after 3 hours of imitation, and that is what happened.
Finally, the light was on the spot, and people started to notice what they were doing, only what they were doing, but they were going nowhere, nowhere far from the ujamaa of the have-nots.
Private sectors witnessed the light, and investors, White investors, white-like cherubs and seraphim, declared commandments and made a decree to ensure heaven and earth are mutually benefited.
Since investors made commandments, indigenous had no voice or choice to decide what is holy and what is not, but white is holy and black is not – what a fair judgement. It was night, and no one noticed until the clock struck and minutes passed.
The Southern Tanganyika had a chance to cast the dice like poisoned milk gamely presented before the cat. Democracy, human rights, and the rule of law were the lights that shone on the green apples, green like pemba grass, like a green strip in the Tanganyika flag. This green consumes all other colours, like the favourite ones of Ibrahim Lipumba and Freeman Mbowe.
Unfortunately, the sun shines on the green, and the green gets pale on the blue island, but the green refuses to recognise the victory that the pale rose has.
The killing was reported, and the white world, like a Greek civilization, a Latin one, and ancient France, recommended that the sun not be blocked from shining. I remind you, no one knew where they were going, but they knew what they were doing.
Again, the crown shifts to the coast, The coast of Tanganyika. Michael, the Archangel, and Lucifer finally reunited the heaven on Earth. They have kept on having more and have not been ridiculed by Lucifer’s smile, Masoud kipanya can draw it perfectly. It was the profound darkness, midth of the “Usiku wa Manane“. Who is faithful to the clock? Change is guaranteed as long as you trust in it, trust in Tick! Tock!.
Tick! Tock! Tick! Tock! Geographers understand the time difference better: when it’s night on this side of the earth’s surface, it’s day on the other side. The have-nots have seen the light because the sun has risen to the whites.
I mean, angels like cherubs and God were frustrated and in danger and hades. Some were kidnapped, others got killed, bankruptcy was fashion, and blackmail was the trend. Six hours of the sun and light to the “Hohe Hahe” was finally at the end, and the dark started again. It was a dark of relief and hope that many had never anticipated.
Also, read Mzee Rukhsa’s Ultimate Sacrifice:A Mixed Leadership That Granted Property to Public Servants
Unfortunately, no one knows if the light we see is sunlight or a torch. There is excellent noise from every corner advertising “Anaupiga Mwingi, Anaupiga Mwingi!” and more voices of the same melody and rhythm. It’s a day for some activists. Fatma’s karma is worth mentioning, while Maria Tsarungi courageously rebuked Fatma on her stand.
This is not about Tanganyikan opposing Zanzibar’s president and Zanzibaris criticising Tanganyikan’s president; it’s about building a better tomorrow. Tomorrow, that identity does not matter. Tomorrow, that 24 hours will be filled with longer hours of the day than night. Tomorrow, that night, there will be a lesson and time for rest, not testing.
As a 2000s kid, I had so much to learn and fight for, at least to see and feel the true light before I joined my parents’ ancestors. But the fight needs courageous people to be ready for hades and bottomless holes, financial destabilization, murder, exile, castration, sodomy and worse.
Night has prevailed for so long, which means the day is not so far from the Tick! Tock! of my parents’ clock. I’m happy to witness and participate in the last wave of liberation.
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